


Loop

by boys_in (kaleidosphere)



Series: Yurileth Week 2020 [2]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Canon Compliant, Developing Relationship, Feelings, Friendship, Injury, Letters, M/M, Male My Unit | Byleth, Romance, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:02:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24238489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaleidosphere/pseuds/boys_in
Summary: Byleth puts in effort, and Yuri puts in faith.
Relationships: Yuris Leclair | Yuri Leclerc & My Unit | Byleth, Yuris Leclair | Yuri Leclerc/My Unit | Byleth
Series: Yurileth Week 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1746655
Comments: 4
Kudos: 101





	Loop

**Author's Note:**

> This is written for [Yurileth Week 2020.](https://twitter.com/yurilethweek/status/1239992923112067072/photo/1) The prompt used is  soulmate au!  Enjoy!

" _Soulmates share the same writing."_

* * *

Yuri does not put faith in soulmates.

It contradicts: he relies on the Goddess and practices her word, but he cannot believe in the system she puts in place—one that connects people to each other before they are even born.

It is not a technical distrust, however. He sees soulmates coming together, he knows matches are made in Heaven and Earth and everything in between. He believes in their existence, and has witnessed it come to fruition.

It is an emotional distrust. He does not believe in fairytales, magical love, or instant relief. He does not think finding his soulmate will make all of his dreams come true.

Yuri is not even sure if he has dreams, to begin with. He has desires, sure, and some carnal wants from time to time. But he is a realist first, and he knows to fill his head with daydreams and false promises is a fool's way to live. Only work bears results, and only results yield promise.

He does not like to promise anything.

The Goddess promises that every person has at least one soulmate. Some people have more than one, but no one is doomed to be alone.

That does not ensure they will not be _lonely,_ however _._ And Yuri hates half-assed attempts at being full.

 _Soulmates share the same handwriting,_ Sothis said.

Yuri wonders if his soulmate was once illiterate, too.

/

/

Byleth does not find the value in reading or writing.

Jeralt tells him otherwise—says that it is important to read prices, contracts, and terms of agreement. Byleth takes him seriously, so in between travels and mercenary work, the two of them allot time to reading children's books, and practicing their handwriting. It is difficult at first, because Byleth has spent the first several years of his life on the run. He has never held a writing implement before.

The first letters he writes are scrawly, clumsy, misshapen. _Byleth Eisner,_ it says. His name is as good a place to start as any, Jeralt says.

 _Byleth Eisner,_ with a disconnect between the curves of the 'B' and the spine of the 'B.' _Byleth Eisner,_ yet his 'i' lacks a dot, so it looks like the 'l' in his first name. _Byleth Eisner,_ but there is no space between the words, so it looks like he wrote it in a hurry. _BylethEIsner,_ it actually says. _I'm writing for the first time in my life,_ goes unsaid _._

And Byleth does not know much about anything, but he knows what a soulmate is. No thanks to Jeralt, who seems to omit information as he sees fit (not that Byleth would be able to tell), but rather thanks to the chatty sellswords they have hired alongside them.

Soulmates are magic, they say. Soulmates will heal you and make you believe in love again, they say.

What is love, Byleth would ask. Oh, you don't wanna know, they answer in turn. They sound a little quippy, a little bit mischievous, like they _do_ know but choose to be secretive.

Byleth learns at an early age to read and write, but also to keep secrets.

He is still not sure which skill has proved more useful.

/

/

Byleth saves three kids from certain death. He does not know their names, but they are colored brightly: red, blue, and yellow. One has white hair and purple eyes, the other is blonde with blue eyes, and the third has dark brown hair with bright green eyes. They look like students, Byleth thinks, and—lo and behold!—they are.

They are students, and his life changes for the better. Or worse. He cannot be sure of it yet.

Though, from the look on Jeralt's face, Byleth gets the feeling that this is much different than their previous jobs. The longest they have ever stayed in one place was for two weeks—would they have to stay for three? Four? Even more?

Would he have to write things on a chalkboard?

"Hey, you know about soulmates, right?" Claude asks. Byleth knows his name is Claude because the three lordlings are quick to differentiate themselves. He suspects some idle chatter like this is to be expected, especially from the most talkative lordling. "Oh, come on, don't look at me like that. It's an innocent question."

"Soulmates are...strange." Byleth blinks at the distance: the monastery looks like a stone giant from where they are. "Why do you ask?"

"Just curious. I mean, the monastery is a big place, y'know? You could find some interesting people there."

"...Like my soulmate."

Claude gasps, as if that has not been his angle all along. "At the Officers Academy? Scandalous."

"Scandal?"

He smiles, pearly white and red-handed. "Oh, nevermind. It's no big deal."

/

/

Byleth swears they choose the Golden Deer house on a whim, but there is no denying the satisfaction he feels when he writes his name on the chalkboard for the first time, and dozens of students groan at the sight.

If Byleth's soulmate is alive and well, they are certainly not wearing a Golden badge upon their chest.

/

/

Yuri keeps the original ledger from his past, a leather-bound journal filled with messy attempts to be literate. It has since transformed, becoming a record of his work with his gang, a tribute to all the lost souls that strayed from the path. There are names and numbers and secrets he keeps close to himself—a powerful reminder of all the difficult choices he has had to make.

No one sees the journal but him. No one approaches it unless they want to be cleaned out from head to toe. Even when Abyss becomes his home, the rules do not change.

The tiniest part of Yuri wonders if one day, by leaving his journal out in the open, one of his people will stumble upon it, and drop it the moment they recognize their soulmate's handwriting.

He snuffs that hope beneath his heel, grinding it to dust.

There is no room for wishful thinking.

/

/

Yuri thinks Byleth is a pretty face and a stranger mind. But any professor so hapless that in the first month, they are willing to recruit a cluster of street rats into their class, is one worth monitoring. Yuri's relationships are not oceans, but streams, and he manages them at the furthest distance he can. He expects Byleth will fall into the shallows with the rest of his kind.

Instead, Byleth comes back every month to check up on Abyss and its inhabitants. Even though the favored Ashen Wolves come up to the surface more often than they should, there is something comforting about their professor coming to _them_ , instead.

"You don't stay long," is what Byleth says. Yuri has no idea what he could be alluding to, but he pretends to understand as he replies in turn.

"Not a lot of things are worth staying for."

"The lectures," Byleth explains. "You leave early. You show up late."

"Is that an issue? Our agreement is that I would sit in on class time—not that I would become your star student." He says this like it is common knowledge, because really, it is. His arms never cross over his body to show displeasure, though. His hands are always kept quietly behind his back.

Byleth wonders what his fingers look like, if they are as painted and put-together as the rest of him is. "It's not an issue," he insists. "I just want to know what I can do better."

"...Cute," Yuri hums. "But don't get full of yourself—you're not the reason I've been skipping out on some of the classes."

"Oh." He is disappointed, and does not even bother to mask it. "Is it difficult?"

Yuri's eyes narrow, but not accusingly. "Is _what_ difficult?"

"The reason you've been gone. Is it difficult?"

And if Yuri expects this answer, he does not show it. Byleth watches with bated breath—looks for some kind of crack in the foundation that holds the rogue upright.

There is none.

Yuri breathes out, "A bit. Truth is, it's not something that concerns you. Not at all."

"If I can do anything to help—"

"You tryna get me to owe you something?"

"You won't let me help you in the classroom," Byleth reminds. Not in an angry voice, because Yuri doubts Byleth has the capacity for anger, but in a stern tone, solid and strong like rock—unyielding, even in Yuri's flighty tendencies. "I'd like to help you somehow."

"Fine. You seem determined, so I don't want to waste the energy debating you."

"Then—"

"But let's get one thing straight." He reaches out, and grabs Byleth by the collar, pulling him in so close that the world disappears, and dials down to a pair of violent eyes: screaming at him, shouting at him, bearing their acid into him. Byleth resists his sting. "If you make _any_ wrong move, I'll cut your throat. If you turn your back on me, I'll gouge your eyes out, and see if that can't make you teach better. Do you understand?"

"I understand," Byleth murmurs. He is not afraid, as a one-on-one challenge with Yuri would be rather interesting, or even useful. He is simply worried that his intent has been misunderstood, as it so often is.

Thankfully, Yuri catches on, and releases Byleth just as quickly as he first grabbed him. "Perfect. Then this will work out fine."

Byleth nods, and straightens himself out without complaint. "What happened?"

"There's a rat."

"Well, Abyss has plenty of rats."

"What?" Yuri looks horrified, then realizes. "Oh, do you have to take things so literally? I mean, there's a traitor among my people. Someone stole something important to me, and it's my job to get it back."

"So this past week when you weren't showing up on time, you've been planning your revenge?"

"Something like that."

"Oh."

"It's not a big deal in that sense. But my people know the rules, and they know that this kind of behavior results in a little... _punishment."_ Yuri sounds like he should be smiling, but his face is anything but. Byleth almost shivers at the sight of him. "And if you're so keen on helping me, then I'll let you tag along. Just remember what I said."

Byleth remembers Yuri more than he would care to, especially the phantom sensations of his hands on his collar. Yuri's touch was cold and uncaring, but Byleth's skin collected warmth—hesitant, frenzied. He banishes the strange thoughts, nods once, and says: "Yes. I'll follow your lead."

For the first time throughout their conversation, Yuri smiles, and lets it bleed into his voice. "Then I'll lead well."

/

/

The mission is easy. Abyss is a big place, but Yuri knows its layout like the back of his hand. Despite the extensive network of his "people," Byleth is the only one accompanying him. They earn plenty of stares as they walk through the streets, but Yuri assures them that no one would question his methods.

Especially when it is so obvious that one of their own has become a traitor. The tones of passersby are expectant, knowing, _sympathetic._ As if they knew something like this would happen—as if this was just any other Wednesday of the week.

They reach the outermost hovels of Abyss, the most rundown shacks and cabins that look less like buildings, and more like piles of leftover slats of wood. Byleth scrutinizes the scene, and makes note of the scent of freshly burnt firewood, as well as slight footprints in the sodden ground.

He bends down to inspect one footprint, and becomes surprised when Yuri traipses over the print, scoffing at the kicked up dirt. "No need for analysis," he reassures him. "I already know who did this."

"How?" Byleth stands to his feet, and follows Yuri's frantic footsteps into one of the rundown huts. "How did you know?"

"It's firewood burning, yeah? But I also smell incense, a very _particular_ incense, the same damn crap I keep telling him not to smoke because it gets everywhere." Yuri grins, sly, as he breaks down the uneven door. "Isn't that right, Kiran?"

The man inside the hut looks shocked, and screams out as Yuri's boots kick the door off of its hinges. Byleth does not have time to spectate, as he searches for whatever precious item they could have taken from Yuri in the first place. He is not a man for jewels, gold, or silks. He certainly is not like the noble children, either, so the stolen goods cannot be tea or emblems or family heirlooms. And he doubts that Yuri would go to all this trouble for something as mundane as food.

Byleth expertly ignores the screams of pain as he turns the hut upside down. There are three separate rooms, and in the third one, he comes across something strange.

A leatherbound-journal, well-kept and well-worn. It is nicer and more _academic_ than the man named Kiran proves himself to be, so he suspects it is this stolen journal that has Yuri all riled up.

By the time he emerges into the main room, there is no strange man begging for his life. There is only a blood stain in the corner where he once sat, and a stormy look on Yuri's face, waves crashing down in his eyes.

Byleth does not ask what happened to the man, or his body. He does not probe Yuri further, nor does he scold or comfort him. Simply, he taps him on the shoulder, and offers the journal with every intention of giving it back.

Yuri's brow raises, and he gingerly receives the journal, as if it is barely the object in question they came looking for. Instead, he tucks it under his arm, and asks in a bare whisper: "Aren't you curious?"

"I am," Byleth admits. "But unless you want to show me, then I don't care. It's yours."

"..."

"Shall we go?" Byleth notices small specks of blood, staining Yuri's collar and the thinnest end of his right sleeve. He does not think other people will notice it as easily, so he does not bother telling him. "Yuri?"

"Let's go," he says. "And thanks for finding this. I won't forget this one."

Byleth nods, the slimmest smile on his face. "I know you won't."

/

/

"And the elder left me with nothing but his knowledge, and this journal." Yuri sighs as he folds the leather-bound ledger over and over in his hands. "These days, I use it to keep track of everyone. Needless to say, it's a powerful asset, and plenty of people want their grubby little mitts on this. Kiran was one of those people."

"I'm glad you have it back," Byleth mumbles. "Are you not worried that Kiran was your soulmate?"

Of all things to expect the professor to say, _that_ was not one of them. Yuri stares and stares, until Byleth regrets his decisions, but ultimately cannot rectify them as Yuri says: "Trust me, if he was, I would know. And even if he wasn't, I wouldn't want an indecisive person like _him_ as my soulmate, anyway."

"Hmm," Byleth mutters, glancing away. "Well, if that's the result you are happy with, I won't deny it. I'm just glad that you'll be coming back to class again."

Violet eyes gleam. "Heh, _someone's_ gotta give you the right answers. I'm sure everyone misses me _so_ much, because I'm just the best student, aren't I?"

He might be joking, but Byleth takes him seriously. Remembering his test scores, determination, and sincere interest in the matter, he nods in agreement. "The very best."

/

/

Before Byleth leaves, he catches a glimpse of Yuri's handwriting in his journal, as the pages turn beneath his slender fingers.

The writing is familiar, slanted, thin, and Byleth feels his heart plummet through his chest.

He leaves before Yuri notices the look on his face.

/

/

Yuri returns to class as normal. He has never noticed it before, but Byleth's handwriting is in blocky letters—probably so the students in the back can see the blackboard more easily.

However, on this particular day, Byleth's hands linger on the chalkboard longer than they should, and when he moves to show the students his work, Yuri has to hold himself back from flailing.

He stares at his own handwriting, reflected perfectly in white letters on a black void.

He gazes upon the familiar figure of a _soulmate._

/

/

"When did you know?" Yuri asks. His voice is low and barely audible, and Byleth is thankful that the Ashen Wolves classroom is empty, for once. "When did you know that our handwriting was the same?"

"When we got your journal back," Byleth replies. His voice is equally quiet, but not toneless. There is a hint of trepidation, a smear of regret, an ounce of sorrow. Maybe he should have left things as they were. "So in class, I…made it obvious that I knew."

"Dramatic, much?" Yuri scoffs. "Well, I can't say I expected this. To think, after all this time, it was you…"

"We don't have to do anything," Byleth offers. Plenty of soulmates ended up with other people, or stayed as friends, or made their relationship platonic. There was no shame in any of it. "I understand your devotion to Abyss. I wouldn't want to be the reason why you start slipping up."

"I'm offended that you think I'd ever slip up, soulmate or not." Yuri leans against one of the desks, arms stretched out behind him. His eyes never leave Byleth's countenance.

"Still, I meant what I said."

"So did I."

"Alright." Byleth moves to the blackboard, and picks up a piece of chalk. He writes Yuri's name in an effortless sweep. "Is it the same?"

Yuri laughs chastely. "The exact same. You even dot your i's the same way. And the Y has the same loop."

"Are you right-handed, too?"

"Ambidextrous," Yuri points out. "But I prefer my right hand."

"So we really are soulmates."

"Yes."

Byleth sighs, and puts the chalk back in its placeholder. He scratches at his head, not caring that the white dust gets mixed up in his strands. "Like I said, I'm willing to handle this in whatever way suits you best. Just say the word."

"I don't dislike soulmates," Yuri reminds. "And if I'm going to have a soulmate, it better be someone worth my time."

"..."

"I'll give it a shot. That's all I can promise, though."

"That's all I ask of you."

Yuri grins, and stands beside Byleth at the blackboard. He picks up the discarded chalk, and writes Byleth's name in his own matching scrawl. The 'B' is big and looped, they both notice. The 'y' has the same roundness. It is a perfect match for each other—no one but them would know who wrote whose name.

No one would know.

"I'm not soft," Yuri murmurs. "I won't treat you any nicer just because you're my soulmate."

"And I'm not giving you a free pass in class to slack off," Byleth counters. "I've already got my hands full with Linhardt _and_ Hilda."

"Glad we understand each other, then." Yuri glances at the door, but does not say anything.

Byleth catches on soon enough. "I should get going. I'll see you around, Yuri."

He is halfway out the door, and Yuri says nothing, but Byleth hears him loud and clear.

_Goodbye, dear soulmate of mine._

/

/

They find themselves slipping.

It is minimal at first: Yuri sits up front, taking Raphael's old seat as the brawler transfers to Blue Lions. He is closer to the board, closer to Byleth, closer to the words that look so much like his own. Since the soulmate revelation, Byleth no longer hides his handwriting behind blocky letters, and instead shows off his loops and scrawls to the whole class.

Claude lets Yuri know about something called The Great Sigh, which was the exact moment in time when the Golden Deer house collectively realized that Byleth Eisner was _not_ their soulmate. For the romantics like Hilda, Ignatz, and Lorenz, it was a huge letdown. For the practical people like Leonie, Claude, and Lysithea, it was the biggest relief.

Yuri tries not to react too much, but he cannot help smiling wide—nearly giggling at the revelation that _he_ stole away everyone's beloved professor in the soulmate department. Claude raises a brow, but he is the last person to know Yuri's secrets.

If it can even be a secret, at this point. Yuri's papers are always strewn about, and any curious mind would glance at his work for answers, or even inspiration. If they had been paying attention in class, they would realize that his writing and Byleth's are not only similar, but the same.

They would know the connection right away. But whether or not Claude, in the moment Yuri chooses to speak with him, notices the similarities between Yuri's writing and the professor's, remains to be seen.

And when class ends, Yuri's eyes linger on Byleth's figure longer than any part of him should.

He scurries off, unaffected, but pensive all the same.

He is slipping.

/

/

They continue to fall. It is gradual: Byleth and Yuri are together in battle quite often, especially with Yuri's versatility as a trickster, and Byleth's tendency to be everywhere at once. They work well together, and on more than one occasion, they save each other from close calls.

On a particularly bad outing against monsters, one of the King Beasts clips Byleth in the side, and he falls to the ground bleeding. The pain is quick, sudden, and flashing, enough that he realizes the agony when his face meets the ground. His sword stays in his grip, but it feels like a broken bone as he scrambles to get up.

"Better accept it!" Yuri cries out, and the monster's broken shouts pierce the sky. Byleth dares to open his eyes, and a splatter of blood and feathers coats his face.

Yuri comes down after decapitating the bird, no less gruesome himself as the whites of his clothes are blackened—reds spattered across the collar, smeared on his left cheek. He wipes at it with his wrist, but then ignores the effort in order to help Byleth to his feet.

He stumbles upward, nearly collapsing into Yuri's arms. The sword clatters from his hands, winding into a bony angle at their feet. His breath curls up into desperate gasps at Yuri's shoulder, and his hands clutch frantically at Yuri's back—holding on tightly to whatever strength remains.

Yuri grasps him tightly, muttering something under his breath as a circle of white magic surrounds them. "It's okay, I got you."

"Thanks," Byleth murmurs, drowsy. He closes his eyes against the blood-stained trickster's garb. "That was a crack shot."

Yuri laughs. The white magic envelops them both: Byleth first, and then Yuri. "Me or the bird?"

Byleth snorts, feeling some relief, but still exhausted. "The bird."

And they survive the encounter with monsters, even managing to bring back some rare materials and ores for their troubles. They lead the other students to the monastery (Byleth spends most of his time comforting Marianne, who is upset that she could not heal him in time), everyone chatting away about their recent victory.

The entire time, Yuri's eyes and thoughts are entirely on Byleth, and all he envisions is Byleth's trembling frame and quivering eyes, and the absolute desperation that gripped his entire being, until he collapsed into Yuri's arms, delivering his warmth unto him like a temperamental martyr.

All he sees and knows is Byleth, and it scares Yuri, because he promised himself he would never let himself fall.

Only to realize he had hit rock bottom long ago.

/

/

Byleth always respects his students' wishes. When Lysithea needs an escort through the dark school pathways, when Marianne needs help in the stables, when Claude wants to talk about poison, when Lorenz complains about women (ugh), Byleth endures it all.

But when Yuri quietly simmers—keeps his hands behind his back, keeps his gaze averted in class, keeps his hands to himself as he heals—Byleth notices, and he knows it is because of some unknown error on his part. He has been cordial and distant where it counts, and as soulmates, that is more than anyone can ask for.

Though, without knowing it, Yuri's allies have betrayed him. "Yuribird's a little down," Hapi murmurs offhandedly one day. "Well, as down as he can be."

"Yuri must have finally seen my mettle and importance to the world as a noble-soon-to-be-reborn because he, oddly, has not messed with me as of late." Constance _harrumphs_ and tries to look smug, but her concern is as clear as day. "Not that it matters too much to me."

"Yuri? He seems fine as always—not. I guess he's been a little reserved, but that guy's got everything in order. Even the things you think he's got messed up are perfect." Balthus scratches at the back of his head, frowning. "Why're you worried, though? He'll show up for your little classes and field trips, no doubt."

And to this, Byleth raises a brow. "Oh? What makes you think so?"

He scoffs. "Doesn't take a brainiac to see that he's concerned for you. I'd even venture that he _goes out of his way_ for you, but like hell he'd admit it."

Balthus' words are all Byleth needs to confirm his suspicion: that Yuri, indeed, is avoiding him on purpose. And though it might be his wish to have things this way, Byleth refuses to have their relationship become strained.

For the first time in his career as a professor, he goes against his student's wishes.

/

/

It is cold. It is wet. Yuri cannot remember the last time he fell so hard; the last time the stone felt like his own bones, and that every drop of blood had been let out, replaced with a liquid drip—replaced by _languidness._

He forgets how to hold a sword. He forgets how to heal a wound. Every part of him hurts, and every inch of him burns. He cannot remember his family, his friends, his classmates—he cannot keep his eyes open.

He feels the weight of his bones sink at an angle, and it registers distantly that he is slumped against a wall, crumbling and low and dark. He thinks it is wet because of water, of flooding, but a sharp sting in his side reminds him that he is hurt, that his languid blood is drip-drip- _dripping_ out of him.

He hears the sound of angels.

"Yuri," they breathe. "What happened to you?"

What happened, indeed? If he thinks hard, a tiny image appears in his mind: the loop of a small 'y,' written on a blackboard in chalk.

He moves with a start, but suddenly his arms are restrained, and the angels sing again. "Calm down," they say. "You're fine now: I'm here."

"You?"

"Yes."

The image expands. The small 'y' is actually a capital 'y,' and there are few letters following after it. The word looks like _Yuri,_ but Yuri does not remember writing his name on a blackboard recently.

"Byleth," he suddenly gasps. The cold is cut by the warmth, a startling warmth that roots within him and grows upward. His hands feel like fire as he grasps for something, anything, and stares up at the angel—at Byleth. "Dear Goddess, how are you here?"

"One of your kind mentioned you were in trouble," is all Byleth supplies. "So I went looking for you."

"Oh."

"What happened to you? Can you remember?"

"...Kiran's friends decided he was a better leader than I was. Got ambushed when making my rounds."

"That would explain the bodies."

The fact that Yuri has put more people in their place does nothing to comfort him, but he appreciates Byleth's attempt at coaxing lucidity. "Mmm."

"Rest easy. I'll get you out of here."

And perhaps it was foolish to mistake Byleth for an angel, but when the same man picks Yuri up from the ground, carrying him through the tunnels as if floating on air, he thinks it is the most appropriate comparison made of him by _far._

/

/

"I don't want you to avoid me anymore," Byleth murmurs. "But if it's what you really, truly want, then...I'll allow it."

"You damn fool," Yuri hisses, flicking at Byleth's wrist. "Of course that's not what I want. And I'm a bigger fool for trying to avoid soulmates, rather than embracing it."

He blinks. "Really?"

"Yes, so, we can start this whole thing over, and not make it so awkward between us. Deal?"

Byleth wraps his arms around Yuri's frame, and feels his slightness for the bird he is. To think he can hear him sing a song no one else knows is exciting, invigorating. He tries to keep things mellow, but like fire the feelings of affection—those so common to form in soulmates, in the first place—spike upward in him, warming his hands, his face, his ears.

Yuri sighs, and relaxes into Byleth's body—finds comfort in his lean build, loose clothes, shallow heartbeat. It is so difficult to get close to people, and this whole time he had denied the prospect of soulmates, rather than accepting it.

The one person in the entire world who might be _obligated_ to love Yuri, or who at least is willing to _try_ to love Yuri, stands before him, resolute.

He smiles as Byleth's words come to a fruition near his ears. "Deal."

/

/

They pass each other love notes in discrete ways. For Byleth, he tucks folded pieces of paper together with Yuri's graded tests and lecture notes, and for Yuri, he folds his love into paper cranes, leaving them on Byleth's desk, or in his bedroom. They unfold their letters in private, smiling at the familiar handwriting whose only distinction comes in the verbage and context of the words themselves.

_I don't know much about birds, but you are my favorite. Teach me to sing sometime?_

_The way you crinkle your nose when you don't understand something is cute. Do it more often._

_Please don't tease me in front of the students when_ _you_ _are the one who insists we keep this a secret._

_Hey, if you want to proclaim your undying love for me in the middle of battle tactics, be my guest._

It is a bluff, of course. Yuri and Byleth would never be so brazen with their love. For all of Yuri's antics and Byleth's oddities, they could be quite secretive. Maybe it is inexperience in being open with other people, or maybe it is doubtful that other people would receive their relationship well.

A rogue and a demon: a savage mockingbird covered in ash.

Regardless, they continue to love. Byleth puts in effort, and Yuri puts in faith.

They find the value in the invaluable.


End file.
